short of breath, she said, “You’re a chauvinist, Tony Bravo. Just because a girl is pretty doesn’t mean she can’t be tough, too.”
“Hey, I’m all for women’s rights. I work with female border patrol agents and they handle the job as well as, if not better than the male agents. But bull riding is best left to men.”
If Shannon called with good news soon, Tony’s opinion would be put to the test, because Lucy intended to ask for his help in preparing for the rodeos. There was no sense bringing up the subject now and giving him an opportunity to talk her out of it.
“I was surprised you stayed in Stagecoach after you graduated,” Tony said, changing the subject.
“Really? Why?”
“Memories.” Tony balled up his burger wrapper. “I’ve been trying to get out of this place for a long time.”
Lucy wanted to ask if Tony was on the run from the memories of their brief affair or Michael’s death. She, on the other hand, preferred to smother herself in the memories. “My father said you put in for a job transfer to San Diego.”
“I’m ready for a new challenge.”
That was a bald-faced lie. Tony had told her plenty of times how much he loved Arizona, and that when he stopped rodeoing he intended to become a border patrol agent so he could stay put. Lucy’s heart ached that her mistake was forcing him to leave the home he loved. If she confessed that she was the reason Michael had driven home drunk from the bar, would Tony change his mind about leaving?
The truth won’t bring Michael back.
The thought made Lucy feel even guiltier.
“If we’re successful in shutting down this human-trafficking ring, I’m positive I’ll get my transfer.”
“I doubt your mother is happy about you transferring.”
“At least I’m not moving across the country.” He waved a hand. “Forget about my job. I want to know why you’re driving wasted cowboys home. Don’t you want to do something worthwhile with your business degree?”
She was doing something worthwhile—saving lives. But how many lives would she have to save to make up for Michael’s? “For now, I’m content running my nonprofit business.” Until she found the courage to come clean with her parents about the circumstances surrounding Michael’s death, Lucy didn’t have a whole lot of options.
“Have you ever been threatened by a passenger?”
Although she’d never admit it, there had been one passenger last year who’d made her keep her pepper spray close at hand. After that night she’d informed the bar managers where she was taking the cowboys. If she suddenly disappeared from the face of the earth, the sheriff could ask a few questions and figure out her route. “Most cowboys are decent, God-fearing men who treat women with respect, whether they’re drunk or not.”
“That may be true, but a girl like you—” Tony leaned closer and his masculine scent went straight to Lucy’s head “—would test any cowboy’s morals and values.”
Chapter Three
Was he nuts?
Tony had no business kissing Lucy, but he did anyway. Emboldened by her soft moan, he thrust his tongue inside her mouth, her sweet taste reminding him of the nights they’d shared on the rodeo circuit. His body shook with need, memories fueling his desire.
On the verge of losing control, he ended the kiss—or tried to. Lucy’s mouth followed his when he pulled away, their ragged breathing filling the truck cab. Damn. The joke was on him. He’d kissed Lucy because he’d been trying to make a point about her safety, but the sizzling chemistry between them proved that two years of trying to put this woman behind him had been in vain. He’d better keep his guard up, or she’d make him forget his reasons for leaving Stagecoach.
Lucy pressed her fingertips to her lips and mumbled, “What did you do that for?”
“Do you want me to apologize?”
“Do you want to apologize?”
“Not really,” Tony said.
A woman like Lucy came along once in a man’s lifetime, and he’d blown his shot with her. Who was he kidding? Even if they had gone through with their plan to tell their parents about their relationship, Cal Durango would have made Tony’s life miserable until he’d broken up with Lucy. No way would the wealthy, prominent businessman have allowed Tony anywhere near his daughter.
“Tony.”
“What?”
“I’m still mad at you.”
“For what?”
“For ignoring me after Michael died.”
Tony tensed. He didn’t want to discuss this.
“Why didn’t you return my calls after his funeral?” she asked.
“I wasn’t in the right frame of mind.”
“Okay. I’ll buy that, but we were all grieving, Tony, and I really needed you.”
“I’m sorry.” The walls were closing in on him. “I couldn’t be with anyone.”
“I thought what we’d shared meant something to you.”
The wounded look on Lucy’s face squeezed his heart, but he remained silent. There wasn’t anything he could say in his defense.
“I felt so alone,” she said.
Not as alone as he had felt after he’d been banned from Michael’s funeral service. He’d gotten the message loud and clear—now that Michael was gone, Cal Durango had no use for Tony. In truth, he might have found the nerve to stand up to Durango and insist he was good enough for Lucy, but he didn’t have the right to after he’d ditched Michael in the bar. That decision had sealed Tony’s fate and convinced him that the best thing to do was to keep his distance from Lucy.
Unable to stop himself, Tony tucked a strand of blond hair behind Lucy’s ear. Maybe fate had brought them together again so he could apologize for Michael’s death—not that he expected an apology to absolve him of his sins. “I’m sorry, Lucy. Sorry Michael died.” Sorry things ended the way they did between us.
“Michael’s death still doesn’t feel real to me.”
Memories hurled Tony back in time. Lucy had phoned at 4:00 a.m. with the devastating news that her brother’s vehicle had run off the road and he’d been pronounced dead at the scene. Lucy had told him not to bother driving out to the crash, because medics had already taken Michael’s body to the hospital.
Tony hadn’t known what to do. His mother had been working the night shift at the truck stop and he was alone in the trailer. He’d paced the floor, wishing Lucy or Mrs. Durango would insist he mourn with them at the ranch. Not until his mother walked through the door several hours later had Tony broken down. When the day of the funeral arrived, he’d driven to the church, desperate for a final glimpse of his best friend, but Cal Durango had denied him even that.
The pressure building in Tony’s chest crushed his lungs. Forcing the words past his lips, he said, “It was my fault Michael died.”
Lucy sucked in a quiet breath. “It was not your fault, Tony.”
“I shouldn’t have left your brother at the bar.”
“Why did you?” Lucy squeezed his hand.
The truth wasn’t flattering. He’d been angry that Michael’s leap to the top of the standings meant Tony had to sacrifice being with Lucy in order to travel the circuit with Michael as he made a run for the National Finals Rodeo title. Don’t blame Michael. Tony could have quit rodeo but he hadn’t been able to walk away from the deep